No one but Katty herself knew the trouble to which she had been to get the exact pattern of calendered chintz which she had made up her mind to obtain. Katty also kept to herself the amount which she had spent, out of her small reserve, on the thoroughly good, comfortable easy-chairs, of varying shape, height, and depth, which played such an important, if unobtrusive, part in the comfort of her visitors.
Every chair in Katty's sitting-room was an easy chair, with the exception of two gilt ones which were of their kind good, and which she had bought at a sale. They, however, were never moved away from the places where they stood, flanking a quaint, old-fashioned cabinet now filled with some beautiful old china which had come to Katty from a grandmother.
Yet another peculiarity of Katty's sitting-room was the absence of pictures. Their place was taken by mirrors. Above the mantelpiece on which stood six delicately charming Dresden china figures was a looking-glass of curious octagonal shape, framed in rosewood. Opposite the French window which opened into the garden was fixed a long, narrow mirror with a finely carved gilt wood frame. This mirror gave an air of distinction to the room which would otherwise have been lacking, and it also enabled Katty to see at any moment how she was looking, whether her burnished chestnut-brown hair was quite tidy, and her gown fresh-looking and neat.
There had been a time in her life when Katty Winslow had been passionately fond of beautiful clothes, and able to indulge her taste. Now, all she could hope to attain was freshness and neatness. That she achieved these was to her credit, for they too cost, if not money, then a good deal of thought and time, on the part of their possessor.
Godfrey Pavely had walked out from Pewsbury. From the Bank in the High Street to Rosedean was rather over two miles, and he had gone along at a steady, jog-trot pace till he had come in sight of the little house. Then he quickened his footsteps, and a feeling of pleasurable anticipation came over him.
The banker was very, very fond of his old friend and sometime sweetheart. He believed it to be a straightforward, honest affection, though he could not but be aware, deep in his heart, that "to it" was just that little touch of sentiment which adds salt and savour to most of the close friendships formed between a man and a woman.
As a matter of fact, Godfrey Pavely was now happier in Katty Winslow's company than he was in that of any one else. Not only did she ply him with a good deal of delicate flattery, which caused him always to feel better pleased with himself when at Rosedean than when he was at The Chase, but a great and real bond between them was their mutual interest in all the local happenings and local gossip of the neighbourhood.
Laura was frankly indifferent to all that concerned the town of Pewsbury and the affairs of those whom Mrs. Tropenell called the Pewsburyites. She was not disagreeable about it; she simply didn't care. Katty, in spite of her frequent absences, for she was a popular visitor with a large circle of acquaintances, always came home full of an eager wish to learn all that had happened while she had been away.
Little by little, imperceptibly as regarded himself, the banker had fallen into the way of telling this woman, who had so oddly slipped back into his life, everything which concerned and interested himself, every detail of his business, and even, which he had no right to do, the secrets of his clients.